


Us

by makesometime



Category: Uncharted
Genre: F/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-17
Updated: 2013-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-29 13:34:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/687545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makesometime/pseuds/makesometime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The plan he eventually lights upon, once he gives in, is likely the worst idea he's ever had. It has to be <i>way</i> up there... top ten, easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Us

They've been together in the same place now for a few weeks. Nicely well off after a series of successful jobs, the pair have found a city that agrees with them and a hotel that doesn't question when they extend their lease for 'just another week'. 

For him a few weeks in one place counts as a long time - for Chloe it's practically a lifetime.

After a quiet New Years, February announces itself in a blast of Arctic air and snow. And with it comes... _thoughts_. Suggestions. Terrible things.

The plan he eventually lights upon, once he gives in, is likely the worst idea he's ever had. It has to be _way_ up there... top ten, easy. But he can't ignore the nagging voice in the back of his head, the little niggle that tells him this is something he should do. A chance he should take.

He slips into silent thought more often once the plan forms. Finds himself watching Chloe as she curls up in the window of their room with an ancient tome and doesn't even care that she's stolen one of his sweaters. Wonders instead on the merits of joining her and helping her out with the trickier Latin phrasing. It's all entirely too romantic for both of them, this life is too sedentary and they will grow sick of it soon...

Yet as the days tick down to the 14th the voices grow louder, the nagging harder to ignore. So he gives in and makes a reservation at the seafood restaurant he knows she's been wanting to try.

(He does so a week in advance of the day. It's a solid commitment to being in the city in plural days' time and it's strange how right it feels.)

He tells her about it over a drink in the hotel bar two nights before Valentine's Day – he's not sure if he thinks the alcohol will help or not. Chloe tilts her head to the side and regards him quietly for several moments before a smile forms. A genuine smile, with no mocking humour in it.

"You made a reservation for us...." She begins thoughtfully, cautiously. "On Valentine's Day?"

"Is that a problem?" He asks, soothing his suddenly dry throat with a swig of beer.

She immediately shakes her head a little. "Is that... what we are?"

"Isn't it?" He asks, pretends his heartbeat doesn't hasten in anticipation of her response.

"... I suppose it is." She replies.

And that's it. No wild declarations, no amorous displays. She's not that kind of girl, after all. And they're not that kind of couple.

Nate finds he's content with that.

-

Their 'date' – as Chloe starts to call it with a little teasing lilt to her voice – seems to approach ever more swiftly after their conversation. He wears his best jeans, a surprisingly clean shirt and the leather jacket she has a tendency to smooth her palms over with little sighs of pleasure. ( _What_?) 

He's long since been ready when Chloe steps out of the bathroom in a little black dress that he didn't know she possessed and it takes him a good few seconds to pick his jaw up off the floor at the sight of her.

"Let's go, Romeo." She says eventually (pleasure infusing her words with a warmth that makes him a little tingly).

Their meal is, for two people of questionable profession and morals, quiet and uneventful and... oddly close to something Nate would call perfect if he were feeling more sentimental. Which he isn't. They eat well, drink well, get curious looks from their fellow patrons. They're in contact constantly, whether it's his hand on her thigh or her palm on his forearm, her lips to his ear or his mouth on her neck. It's possibly a little clichéd, the display of a couple who can't keep their hands off each other, but that's something he's happy to blame on the champagne.

And that the icy blast of air which greets them when they step out of the restaurant means Chloe presses more firmly into his side? He's not about to complain about that either.

The man on the front desk of the hotel smiles when he sees them return and that's when Nate knows something has truly changed in his life. People don't usually look happy to see him... unless they're armed and he isn't.

He finds it difficult to care.

-

For all their difficulties, snarking, and lingering uneasiness with each other there's one part of their relationship that they've never had any trouble with.

He watches from the bed as Chloe lets her dress slip to the floor, revealing dark red lace underwear that he's absolutely _certain_ she didn't own last time he checked (and he checks often). She smiles, steps out of her heels, unties her hair and then slinks towards him with a kind of feline grace that he rarely notices but instinctively admires.

When she's within reach Nate pulls her down beneath him and captures her mouth without preamble. Chloe sighs with a sort of contentment when his fingers slip beneath her to unfasten her bra and then her own hands are busy too, loosening his belt and pushing jeans and underwear down with learned skill. He kicks the material off and lifts up to pull the red lace from her body, bra first then panties, sliding the latter down her long legs with a lover's care. His path up her body is slow, reverential, kisses dropped on tan skin without haste or plan.

Her legs fall open to accommodate his form, an offer that he doesn't hesitate to take advantage of. Then, all too quickly, there's a flash of mischief in her eyes when her thighs tighten around him and she rolls them until he's pressed into the mattress, her face duly painted with triumph. She kisses away his pout, breathing in his reaction as she slides down on him, showing a gentleness of action that's quite unlike her.

When she sits up and braces her hands on his chest, he starts to realise why.

It's hard to focus, he'll admit, and he's not terribly inclined to it in moments such as this. But he also knows her well – _very_ well – by now. And there's something weighing on her mind.

Good or bad, though, he isn't sure.

"Nate..." She says quietly, losing her train of thought when his hands pass up over her stomach, up to cup her breasts. "Nate, I have an idea."

And there is is....

"An idea?"

She hums in the affirmative, rolling her hips a little faster. "An idea. A very good idea, not that mine ever aren't."

(He's never been able to figure how she remains so eloquent when he loses the ability to talk the minute her clothes hit the floor.)

"Are... you going... to tell me?" He manages.

"I could make you guess." She smiles, leaning forward to drop hot kisses up his throat, bringing her mouth level with his ear. "Doesn't that sound fun?"

Something about her cheerful tone gives him pause. His hands smooth down her back, over her ass briefly, then up to press on her hips and stop her moving.

"Wait a minute. Did you go through with this evening just to get me on my back so I'd agree to your latest crazy plan?"

Chloe smiles fondly down at him, cupping his cheek as she clamps her internal muscles sinfully around him - she might be bound but she's never without means of retaliation, he should know better.

"But darling, you're so much more _agreeable_ like this."

He huffs, rolling them so that he has control again. "Chloe, tell me the truth."

She pouts, linking her arms around his neck. "No, I didn't agree to tonight with any ulterior motive. Scout's honour."

Nate pauses for a moment, before hitching her legs up higher on his torso and starting to thrust into her. "Tell me the damn plan."

Chloe practically beams at him, pulling him down for a quick kiss. "It's foolproof, darling. Absolutely foolproof."

-

Turns out it isn't foolproof.

Nate reminds her of this many times in their fight out of the 'abandoned' island port; shouting it over the near-constant hail of gunfire, the beeping of grenades and the whoosh of barely-avoided RPGs. Each time she just smiles, laughs, dismisses his concern. Each time his anger fades, replaced instead with the burn of adrenaline, the excitement of a good fight.

And when they're pinned down at one of the outer walls and he hears his name shouted in a familiar voice from the other side, he almost kisses her right there, bullets be damned. She winks at him and a second later is leaping over the wall, a splash indicating her successful evasion of their pursuers. Nate sneaks a look through one of the broken archways and when he finds Sully helping her into a small boat he can't hold in a scoffed laugh.

"You coming?" Sully cries, managing to make it a question and an insult all in one.

"Yeah, yeah, give me a chance here!" He shouts back, loosing off one final grenade before following his Australian terror out of harm's way.

When they've made their escape and Chloe throws her arms around him, Nate doesn't question it – mostly because he's too busy kissing her to care about such an uncharacteristic display. (Knowing what's good for him, Sully simply lets out a low, appreciative, whistle and turns to continuing steering them out of harm's way.)

"We did it!" She exclaims when they part, genuine excitement showing on her expressive features.

"Of course we did." He responds, equally animated with the thrill of a job well done. "It's us!"

_Us_...

It's a long time since he's been part of an 'us'.

He could get used to it.


End file.
